


A Night At the Opera

by angstytimelord



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Hannibal's in lust, M/M, Public Sex, Rimming, Stair Sex, Will is beautiful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-12
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2017-12-19 07:01:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/880827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angstytimelord/pseuds/angstytimelord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal wants the world to see just how beautiful Will is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dress You Up

Hannibal glanced towards the bedroom door, waiting for Will to get out of the shower and come back into the room. He had plans for this evening, and he wanted to have time to carry them out.

He had decided this afternoon that he was tired of seeing Will looking like a scarecrow, when the young man could look so much better if Hannibal took him in hand. So he had decided to do so, and he was accepting not arguments from Will.

Will really could be utterly lovely if he would just make an effort to look better, Hannibal told himself firmly. He wasn't changing anything about Will; he was merely helping the young man to emphasize his obvious assets. No one else seemed to see them, so Hannibal was going to bring them out.

Of course, if anyone so much as looked at Will the wrong way, he would unsheath his claws.

Will Graham was _his_. No one else was going to take what was his; they could look, but if anyone so much as tried to touch, or to seduce Will away from him, they would discover that they had made a very dangerous enemy indeed.

Ah, the shower was being turned off. Will would be stepping out of the porcelain tub now, reaching for a towel to dry off and wrap it around his nude body ....

Hannibal pushed his thoughts away from the direction they were taking with a wistful sigh. He didn't need to think about Will being naked; if he did, then they would both invariably end up in that state, and they wold never make it out to the opera.

Not that Will actually wanted to go, he thought with a frown. But he had made his young lover promise to accompany him tonight. That was part of his plan.

He was going to transform Will tonight.

Everyone was used to seeing Will as a scruffy, badly-dressed young man who wore thick glasses and was never looked at twice. Tonight, Will was going to be shown off as the beauty that he was. Everyone would be looking at him -- and envying Hannibal.

He had every intention of turning his lover from the proverbial ugly duckling into a beautiful swan. Of course, Will was far from ugly; he had always been beautiful, and Hannibal had seen that potential from the first time he'd laid eyes on the boy.

It was a good thing that no one else had really bothered to take a closer look at Will, he told himself as he waited patiently for the young man to come into the room. That would make this much easier; Will would have no idea just how good he could look.

Or maybe he did, Hannibal mused. Maybe he _knew_ that he was beautiful, and simply didn't want too many people to look at him too closely.

After all, Will was a man who valued his privacy and isolation. He clung to them as though they were a barrier between himself and the rest of the world.

But tonight, he would be drawn out of that isolation, whether he wanted to be or not.

Tonight, Will Graham would become the butterfly emerging from the protective chrysalis. Everyone around him would see him for the beauty that he was. Hannibal wanted Will to be admired, wanted his full potential to be seen, recognized and appreciated.

Will walked into the bedroom wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his slender waist, and Hannibal could feel his mouth go dry. The boy was absolutely gorgeous. 

Why hadn't anyone taken note of his looks before? Will had a beautiful body, though he wore clothes that seemed to deliberately play down the fact that he was beautifully proportioned -- slender waist, curving hips, long legs, muscular biceps.

Not too muscular, though. He was slender and fragile, with the kind of body that Hannibal liked. There wasn't much about Will that he _didn't_ like.

He had a face that could launch many more than a thousand ships.

Will had such wonderful bone structure, Hannibal mused as he studied the young man. High cheekbones, an angular jawline, a heart-shaped face. How was it that no one had ever seemed to notice the beauty of those big blue eyes and those perfectly shaped lips?

Well, apparently, no one had. And it was up to _him_ to see that Will was transformed from the shell he hid himself away in to the stunning bird of paradise that he was capable of being.

He gestured towards the tuxedo lying on the bed, ready for Will to put it on. "We have to get ready, Will," he told the young man, barely restraining his impatience to see Will in that tux. "It would be terribly rude for us to show up late -- and we won't be allowed in once it starts."

"Okay, okay." Was it his imagination, or did Will sound as though he was grumbling a bit? Hannibal couldn't keep from frowning at the petulance in Will's voice. It was obvious that this wasn't his idea of a good time, but Hannibal was going to be insistent.

He didn't particularly care if Will didn't want to go to the opera. He was going to be there, and Hannibal was going to show him off. That was all there was to it.

If Will didn't like it, that was just too bad. He would have to deal with an evening of culture.

"I've wanted to dress you up for a while now, and get you out of those terrible clothes you always wear," he said softly, in an attempt to restore Will's good humor. You really are extensively easy on the eyes, Will. I would like for more people to be able to appreciate that fact."

Will sighed softly, moving to the bed and letting the towel fall to the floor. "I know you would, Hannibal. And I do appreciate the thought. I'm just not comfortable with dressing up."

Hannibal's breath caught in his throat at the sight of that gorgeous body bared to his gaze. He couldn't keep his eyes off Will; he let his hungry gaze roam from the sloping shoulders, to the small waist, to the luscious curves of Will's bottom.

A bottom that he desperately wanted to touch. To feel. To be inside.

No, that would have to wait until later, he told himself sternly. He had made plans for this evening, and one moment of lust couldn't be allowed to turn him aside from them. Tonight, the world would see Will Graham transformed, and they would not forget the sight.

He wanted everyone around them, everyone Will knew, to envy Hannibal for what he had. Will belonged to him; that would be obvious from the pride he would take in showing the young man off to the world. And everyone would _know_ that this boy was his possession.

Still, it was hard to keep his thoughts from turning towards the erotic, especially when Will was standing there naked, pulling on his boxers before getting into the tuxedo.

It was hard to make himself turn away from the sight of that beautiful bare body; he almost sighed in regret when Will shrugged into the white shirt and pulled on the black pants. He hated to see such beauty covered, but he would uncover it later tonight.

He wouldn't forget how Will had looked, either. And that memory would only fuel his desire.

Will turned towards him, tucking the bottom of his shirt into the black pants, then smoothing the waistline. "You're going to have to tie the tie for me," he said with a laugh. "I suck at that."

"I don't mind helping out a bit," Hannibal said with a smile, stepping forward to work at the tie. He breathed in deeply, gratified that Will had worn the aftershave he'd recommended. It showed that the boy was starting to defer to him, which was a good thing.

"I'm guessing you like that better than the stuff that smells like it has a ship on the bottle," Will said, raising his brows, laughter lurking in his tone. "I think I like it better, too. So you've talked me into wearing a higher class of cologne. But you won't get me to dress up all the time."

"As long as I can dress you up on some special occasions, then I will be satisfied," Hannibal answered, adjusting Will's tie and stepping back. "There. That should do."

"Thanks." Will's glance went to the mirror, his eyes widening in surprise.

Did he really not realize how beautiful he was? Hannibal could hardly believe that, but he supposed ti was true. Will wasn't the kind of man who spent time looking in mirrors unless he had to; he wasn't vain in the slightest. It was one of the things Hannibal liked most about him.

Will didn't seem to have much of an ego, and he liked that. It made him that much less sure of himself, that much easier to manipulate and control. As long as he remained that way, then Hannibal would be happy. If he began to pull back, then he would have to be taught a lesson.

"You look stunning, Will," he said, keeping his voice as soft as a caress. "I will be proud to escort you to the opera tonight. Everyone there will envy me."

He had to hold back a smile when Will blushed and looked down.

"I think that might be the other way around," he answered, his voice soft and a little breathless. "I've seen you in a tux before, but I don't think I appreciated just how good you looked all dressed up." He lifted his head, his eyes meeting Hannibal's, his voice almost a challenge. "But I prefer you naked."

"I prefer you unclothed as well," Hannibal answered, trying to ignore the heat that was gathering in his loins. This wasn't the time to think about sex. "But that will have to wait for another time."

"Let's hope this evening won't last too long, then," Will said, heaving a resigned sigh. "Because right now, I just want to get back here and strip out of this monkey suit."

"You make a very attractive monkey," Hannibal said with a soft laugh. If that was how Will wished to think of himself, then so be it. But he looked wonderful; Hannibal was glad he'd thought of doing this. All eyes would be on Will tonight -- just the way he wanted it.

His own eyes would never stray far from the young man at his side.

He had plans for what would happen at the opera tonight. They had a private box, one that he was sure would give them all the screening that he would need. Will wouldn't be focusing on the opera once Hannibal put that plan into motion -- and he could hardly wait for the lights to go down.

Hannibal led the way down the stairs to the foyer, turning to watch Will descend the last few steps after him. In the tuxedo, the white shirt gleaming against the black coat, with the thick glasses gone and his dark curls brushed back, Will looked unbelievably handsome.

Oh yes, he was _very_ glad that he had decided to dress Will up tonight. This would be an evening that they wold both remember for a long time -- and perhaps it would be repeated in the future. Opening the door, he held out a hand to Will, ready for the night to begin.


	2. Easy on the Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will's transformation causes a stir when he and Hannibal at the opera house.

Hannibal couldn't help watching Will as the two of them entered the opera house; it was hard not to feast his eyes on such beauty. He knew that everyone else would shortly be watching Will, as well, and he intended to discover just who looked the hardest.

He wanted people to see the beautiful man he was with and envy him, but he _didn't_ want anyone to get any ideas about having Will for their own.

Will Graham belonged to him. No one else would touch his boy; if they so much as looked at him the wrong way, they could very well find themselves being part of the contents of Hannibal's freezer. And they would richly deserve that fate.

Anyone who coveted what Hannibal had didn't deserve to live.

No one would ever have Will, he told himself, placing a possessive hand at the small of the other man's back as they paused near the front doors. They could look, but they would never possess. Will was _his_. No one else would ever touch him.

He could already see the appreciative looks being thrown their way; he really wasn't surprised at that. Will was a lovely man, even in his disguise of glasses, razor stubble, and ill-fitting clothes. Now that he had cleaned up a bit, he was beyond attractive. He was stunning.

Will wasn't really reacting to the way that people were looking at him, but maybe he hadn't realized yet that he was being stared at. Hannibal glanced at him -- and realized that Will's cheeks were pink, suffused with a blush of embarrassment.

Interesting. He hadn't expected Will to be embarrassed by the attention. He had thought that the young man would simply ignore it.

Instead, Will was acting as though no one had ever looked at him before. 

"Hannibal, everybody's staring at me," Will whispered, his tone conveying the embarrassment he obviously felt. "What's wrong with me? Is my hair all messed up? Do I have something on my face?" He almost sounded frantic, as if he was worried about what others thought of him.

Hannibal shook his head, the pressure of his hand at the small of Will's back increasing. "No, there's nothing wrong," he said, keeping his tone soothing. "They're merely admiring you, Will. You _are_ a beautiful man, you know. Even if you don't often let it show."

"Me? Beautiful?" Will laughed, shaking his head. "I think you must be thinking about the wrong guy. I'm not ugly, but I'm a far cry from beautiful. I wouldn't even say I'm all that attractive. I"m just .... okay. I kind of tend to melt into the background."

"You could never do that," Hannibal said softly, "even in your horrible clothes, unshaven, and wearing those glasses. People notice you, Will. They simply don't _remember_ you, because you deliberately try to make yourself unmemorable."

"Yeah, I guess I do," Will admitted, looking somewhat shamefaced. "But it's because I don't like people to get too close to me. I don't _want_ them to remember me."

Hannibal laughed softly, shaking his head as he faced Will.

"Tonight, that is going to change," he said, his voice still very soft. "After this evening, everyone who sees you will remember you, Will. And the people who already knew you will wonder why they didn't remember you before. They're finally seeing you as you truly are."

"How can you be so sure that you know who I am?" Will countered, raising his brows and crossing his arms over his chest. "You know me better than anybody else does, Hannibal, but you don't know everything about me. Not even close."

"I realize that," Hannibal admitted, even though he didn't like saying the words. "But as you said, I know you better than anyone else does. "And I believe that I've started to discover what makes you tick. I am still pulling back layers, but I will eventually find the core of you."

He could see from the expression on Will's face that his words had hit home, and that the young man in front of him knew that he was speaking the truth.

"You are extensively easy on the eyes, Will, whether you are in glasses and horrible clothes, or in a tuxedo," he murmured, not taking his gaze from the other man's face. "And tonight, everyone around us will realize that fact. It's past time that they did so."

Will looked around a little furtively, his blush intensifying.

"Aren't you afraid that somebody's going to try to flirt with me?" he asked, his voice very soft. "I doubt you'd like that. And honestly, I wouldn't either. I don't want people to notice me, Hannibal. It's why I always try to look .... innocuous. To blend in."

"You are far too striking a person to simply 'blend in' all the time," Hannibal said, his voice a little sharp. "This is the night for you to shine, Will," he continued, his tone softening. "I want you to do that. I want people to realize what a lovely man you are."

Will nodded, though he still didn't seem convinced. Hannibal supposed that it was hard for him to simply cast off the image that he had of himself in so short a time.

But he would make sure that Will managed to do it; he wasn't going to have the man who was his lover seeing himself in an unattractive light. After all, Hannibal would only have the best in his bed -- and how could someone who thought of himself as unattractive be considered the best?

Yes, he had to change the way that Will saw himself. But he was walking a fine line with that -- he didn't want Will to suddenly decide that he was too good for the relationship they had, and pull away from him. That wouldn't do at all.

Somehow, he had to make Will realize that he was beautiful, without giving him too much confidence.

That might not be easy to do, but Hannibal was sure that he was up to the challenge. After all, Will was already in thrall to him, under the spell of his charm. And he was completely under the influence of the sexual satisfaction that only Hannibal could give him.

It would be an intricate balancing act, giving Will enough confidence to realize his own beauty, but not enough to make him want to take the reins of control in their relationship.

He would enjoy this challenge, Hannibal told himself, suppressing a smile. If Will misbehaved, all he had to do was threaten to walk away -- and the young man would be on his knees, begging for what he knew he needed, but couldn't ask for outside of the confines of a darkened bedroom.

He would break Will's spirit, but only enough to turn the young man into exactly what Hannibal wanted him to be. He didn't want to break Will completely. That would take the fun out of the their relationship, and besides, he didn't want Will to be an automaton.

People were already watching Will, covertly, out of the corners of their eyes. The opera house was abuzz with gossip, and Hannibal didn't doubt that most of it was about this beautiful, desirable young man who was on the arm of Hannibal Lecter.

That brought a certain glow of satisfaction.

But the night was far from over, and his plans had to move to the next step. Gesturing towards the stairs that led to the private boxes, he moved his hand from Will's back to his arm, guiding his lover to the foot of the steps as several pairs of eyes followed them.

Oh yes, Will was most definitely easy on the eyes. He had known that from the moment they had met; the rest of the world was only just discovering that fact.

He could feel Will beside him as he ascended the steps; he didn't have to look to know that his boy was right by his side. Oh, this was going to be an interesting evening, one that they would both remember for a long time. He could hardly wait to put the next phase of his plans into motion.


	3. All Eyes Watching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even with the curtains closed, Will is certain that everyone at the opera knows what's going on.

Will swallowed hard as he and Hannibal crossed the foyer full of people, heading for the steps that led up to the private opera boxes. He could feel the stares that followed him; it was as if every eye in the room was on him, and it made him uncomfortable.

He hated being stared at. He hated being the center of attention, no matter where he was. This evening had suddenly gone from something that could be an interesting new experience to being acutely disturbing, in just the course of a few minutes.

He was silent as they began to climb the stairs -- until he felt Hannibal's hand move from the small of his back to rest on the curve of his ass.

"What are you _doing_?" he hissed, wishing that he could pull away, but knowing that it would only cause more glances to come their way if he did. "People are watching us! You don't want everybody to start talking about you having your hand on my ass."

Hannibal raised his brows, a smile quirking his lips. "I don't? Why not, pray tell?"

Those words silenced Will, made him wonder. Did Hannibal actually _want_ people to know about their physical relationship? He hadn't thought that the doctor would want that made public knowledge, but apparently Hannibal had other ideas.

Maybe Hannibal wanted everyone to know that they were involved. It hadn't occurred to Will that the other man might be proud of them being together; he'd thought that he would be Hannibal's dirty little secret, to be kept hidden and only acknowledged privately.

The idea that he wasn't going to be kept hidden in the shadows of Hannibal's life made his heart leap; this was something he hadn't expected to happen.

But it still felt more than a little uncomfortable to have his lover's hand on his ass as they climbed the stairs, in full view of everyone who remained in the lobby. He wanted his relationship with Hannibal acknowledged, but he didn't want to look like a boy toy.

It suddenly felt as though all eyes were on them, even though he knew that realistically, there were more than likely only a few people watching. Everyone in the room couldn't have an interest in him; there weren't that many people who actually knew who he was.

Maybe he was just being horribly egotistical, but it still felt uncomfortable.

Fortunately, once they were at the top of the stairs, Hannibal's hand moved to the small of his back again, exerting a slight pressure as the other man guided Will to the entrance of one of the private boxes that lined the hallway. Will stepped inside, blinking.

The box was dark, but he was sure that he'd get used to that quickly. Besides, he was going to be focused on the stage, and not anything in here, wasn't he? At least, he hoped he was. He'd always thought of the opera as being boring; he didn't think it would hold his attention.

Of course, he could always watch Hannibal, rather than watching the opera. Though that probably wouldn't be easy to do; Hannibal could always sense when someone's eyes were on him, and he would wonder why Will wasn't concentrating on what they'd come to see and hear.

Truth be told, he hadn't really come here for the opera. He was only here because Hannibal wanted him here; he didn't care what else was going on.

It felt like such a privilege and an honor to be asked to accompany Hannibal to the opera that he hadn't hesitated to say yes, even though he didn't really want to go. Hannibal rarely ever took anyone to these things, and in a way, it was a date.

Being out on a date with Hannibal was going to be an interesting experience.

He didn't think that the doctor had taken anyone else out on a date in a very long time; at least, Hannibal didn't act as though he'd done so. He kept his personal life very private; even Will, as his lover, had only gotten little glimpses into who the other man was.

But at the moment, he didn't mind being on the outside looking in. It didn't seem to matter. He had been Hannibal's choice to spend his time with; he was Hannibal's choice to be in his bed. That meant a lot, and Will was content to take small steps forward.

The sensation of being watched faded as Hannibal stepped into the box and closed the door behind him; Will breathed a sight of relief, visibly relaxing.

"Pull the curtains around the box, Will," Hannibal told hm, sitting down in one of the chairs. "And then I'd like for you to remove your pants. No one will be able to see you from the waist down; they might be looking, but the walls are too high to allow a view."

Will gasped, his eyes widening. "You want me to get half-naked _here_ , in a public place?" he asked, hardly believing what he was hearing. "If anybody guesses that we're having sex in here, they'll throw us out! You'll never be able to come back!"

Hannibal's slow smile was predatory, almost unnerving.

"No one will guess that we're having sex, because we're not going to do that," he said, shaking his head. "At least, not in the way that you may be thinking." He tilted his head to the side, as though an idea had just occurred to him. "Hmmm. Though it's a novel idea."

Will wanted to say no; he wanted to vehemently tell Hannibal that he wasn't going to participate in anything so completely outrageous.

Instead, he found himself pulling the curtains closed, encasing them in darkness, and then reaching for the button and zipper on his pants, almost without thinking. "B-but .... what if we get caught?" he asked, his voice shaking. "You'll be barred from the opera."

Hannibal only shook his head, smiling again. Will could see the white flash of his teeth in the dimness of the box; suddenly, he felt like Little Red Riding Hood about to be swallowed whole by the Big Bad Wolf. It seemed like a very apt analogy.

"I've locked the door, Will," Hannibal said patiently, as though he was explaining something to a child. "No one is going to catch us. And you don't really think that people don't get up to a little mischief in these boxes all the time, do you? Don't be naive."

Maybe other people did, Will told himself. But not two men.

This definitely was _not_ what he'd thought he would be doing when Hannibal had told him they were going to the opera. This night was full of surprises. Carefully, Will removed his pants and laid them across a chair, hoping they wouldn't get wrinkled.

"And your boxers, too, Will," Hannibal instructed him, waiting patiently while the young man did as he was told. Within seconds, Will was naked from the waist down.

"Now, please lean against the front of the box," Hannibal told him, waiting again until Will had done so. Will knew that he couldn't be seen by anyone outside the box, but he still couldn't help feeling as though all eyes were watching, glued to the drawn curtains, waiting for any movement.

He was determined not to give them what they sought. No matter what Hannibal did, he wasn't going to move. He would stand stock-still, and hopefully people would get tired of watching for something they weren't going to see, and finally look away.

Will leaned his elbows on the slight ledge at the front of the box, taking a deep breath and then exhaling. So far, so good. He didn't think he'd jostled the curtains, and if he was careful, then no one wold guess that there was anything untoward going on in here.

A moment later, he gasped when he felt Hannibal's hands on his ass; he couldn't stop himself from leaning forward slightly, making the curtains move.

"Lovely," Hannibal whispered, squeezing gently. "Such a perfect body."

Will would have thanked him for the compliment if he hadn't had his teeth gritted, concentrating on not moving or making a sound. He didn't want to draw any attention to their box; he already felt that all eyes in the place were watching those closed curtains.

He had to hold back a soft cry of surprise when he felt Hannibal's warm breath on his skin; a moment later, he could feel those warm hands spreading his ass cheeks, then Hannibal's tongue was licking down the cleft of his ass, lapping at his balls.

Will clamped his lips together, determined not to make a sound. However, that was going to be harder than he'd thought, given what Hannibal was doing with his tongue.

That warm, wet tongue circled his entrance for a few moments, then plunged inside him; Will gasped in spite of himself, his hands clutching at the ledge of the box. He knew that the curtains were moving; he was just glad that they didn't part.

He concentrated on keeping his breathing as even as he could, trying desperately not to make the curtains move too much. It was as though he could _feel_ the burning stares that were focused on their box; he just _knew_ that all eyes were turned in their direction.

He almost wanted to sink to the floor in embarrassment, but he couldn't.

All he could do was stand here, trying to be still even while that delicious mouth was doing such wonderful things to his body, and try to hold back his moans of pleasure. He almost wished that Hannibal had gagged him; that would make it easier to be quiet.

But of course, Hannibal would do no such thing. He _wanted_ this to be hard for Will; he wanted to run the risk of being heard, or worse, being seen. Hannibal was flirting with danger, and dragging Will along into it with him.

He was on the edge; he would come at any moment now. How was Hannibal going to explain _that_? They might not be observed, but they would leave behind evidence.

A moment later, his orgasm washed over him, and Will almost had to clamp a hand against his mouth to keep himself from moaning aloud. He couldn't hold the sound back completely; stifled though it was, he still groaned softly, hoping that it wasn't audible outside the curtains.

He felt Hannibal move away from him, heard the sounds of the other man pulling something from his coat pocket. Will turned his head slightly to see Hannibal wiping his mouth, a small smile on his lips. He closed his eyes, feeling drained.

Why had Hannibal done that? He should know better than to ask such a question, really. Hannibal did it because he could get away with it, that was why.

He felt like _he_ was the onstage, not the opera singers.

Will didn't want to feel that everyone here in the opera house had been lured into voyeurism, but he was sure that most of them had. He didn't doubt that there had been plenty of eyes riveted to the curtain across the front of this box, that people had guessed what was going on.

It was going to be intensely embarrassing for him to show his face publicly when they left; he just hoped that they would get out of here quickly once the opera was over, that Hannibal would take pity on him and not subject him to public scrutiny.

"What was that all about?" he asked, keeping his voice low. He reached for his pants, but Hannibal shook his head, frowning.

"No, Will," he said, his voice sharp. "I didn't give you permission to get dressed again. This night isn't over, and there are other plans waiting in the wings." He indicated the chair next to him. "Sit down and rest for a bit. I think you may need to gather your strength."

Somehow, those words didn't sound reassuring, but there was really nothing he could do other than obey Hannibal's command. Holding back a sigh, Will sat down, keeping his gaze focused forward and waiting for whatever Hannibal decided to do next


	4. Everyone Can See

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is convinced that everyone in the opera house knows just what he and Hannibal are up to.

Will didn't dare glance over at Hannibal; he didn't think he wanted to know what his lover was doing. Whatever it was, he didn't think he would like the outcome. Hannibal had already surprised him once, and he expected the next surprise to be even more unnerving.

What must all of the people in the opera house think? The curtains had been drawn for a while now, and even though the opera hadn't started yet, he was sure that was unusual.

It felt strange, sitting here naked from the waist down, wondering just what Hannibal was planning. Will couldn't help but feel uneasy; whatever Hannibal had on his mind, something told him that he wasn't going to like it much.

Hannibal knew how to exploit his weaknesses all too well.

His lover knew that he was awkward in social situations; he wouldn't put it past Hannibal to deliberately try something that would make him feel even more so. It would be Hannibal's verison of "therapy," but it wasn't something that Will wanted to deal with.

Still, he was here with Hannibal, and he had no choice but to do as his lover bid him to. He didn't want to cause a scene, and this definitely wasn't his milieu. He wasn't comfortable here, and he was sure that Hannibal was very aware of that fact.

What was Hannibal going to do? Will turned his head to look at the other man, surprised to see what his lover had just taken from his coat pocket.

Will blinked, wondering if he was seeing things correctly in the dimness of the opera box. Why in the hell would Hannibal have brought an anal plug with him? This was _not_ looking like something he was going to enjoy, but it was too late to say no.

If he did, then he would incur Hannibal's displeasure.

His lover wouldn't punish him here, of course. He wouldn't even be punished outright. But he would be denied Hannibal's company for days; and when they finally did spend time together again, Hannibal would deny Will the pleasure of his body.

"Please stand up and lean against the front of the box again, Will," Hannibal told him, his voice low and pleasant, as though he was asking Will about the weather. "Spread your legs and bend forward as much as you can without dislodging the curtains."

Will swallowed hard, getting to his feet slowly. He did as he was told, knowing what was coming next. He closed his eyes, his muscles tightening.

He could feel Hannibal's fingers spreading him; they were cool and slippery, an indication that Hannibal had thought enough of his comfort to coat them with lube. The plug was pressed against him, patiently waiting for him to relax and allow entrance.

That wasn't going to be easy; his body was tense, his senses tightly wound. Will took one deep breath, then another, forcing himself to relax; when his muscles slackened slightly, he felt the plug push into him, eliciting a gasp from his lips.

"You may sit down again, Will." Hannibal's voice was still low. "I will open the curtains."

"What?" Will felt panic skitter somewhere in the region of his stomach. "At least let me put on my pants first." Hannibal didn't expect him to sit here half-naked through the first half of the opera, did he? That had _not_ been what he was expecting.

Hannibal shook his head, a slight smile curving his lips. "No, Will. You are going to watch the opera just as you are. You don't have to worry -- no one can see us below the waist, so your state of undress won't be observed by anyone."

Will wanted to protest, but he knew that would do no good. Once Hannibal had made up his mind about something, getting him to change it was practically impossible.

His cheeks flaming, Will sat back down, wriggling a bit to find the most comfortable position. With the plug firmly inside him, no position would be truly comfortable; even shifting his body slightly made it brush against his prostate, sending a jolt of pleasure through him.

So this was what Hannibal intended, to keep him in a state of arousal through the first half of the opera. His body was already on edge; Will was sure that he was going to lose control far before the intermission -- and that Hannibal wouldn't be pleased with him.

But what did he expect? This was too much for anyone to take.

Hannibal stood up and drew the curtains back -- and, just as he had expected, there seemed to be dozens of eyes trained on the box. Will could feel his blush intensify; he was sure that everyone in the place knew just what was going on.

He studiously avoided looking out at the crowd of people, all who seemed to be watching them. He kept his eyes on the stage, even though the curtains hadn't gone up and nothing was happening yet. He didn't want to know if people were staring at him.

Will felt as though everyone there could see into the box, as if they knew that he was naked from the waist down. It was almost as though he could feel all of those eyes focused on his body, taking him in, and somehow finding him wanting.

That wasn't the case, he told himself. No one knew that he was half-naked. Like Hannibal said, no one could see what they were doing.

But the curtains had been drawn for such a long time that people _had_ to know that something untoward was going on, Will told himself. Especially after the possessive way that Hannibal had touched him as they made their way to the box earlier.

His cheeks were still flaming red; he was sure that his blush could light up the entire opera house.

Hannibal seated himself beside Will again, apparently not in the slightest bit disturbed by the attention that they were getting. He didn't seem to notice that anyone was looking at them; he simply shrugged off the attention as though it wasn't happening.

Casually, as though he wasn't thinking about what he was doing, Hannibal moved his hand to Will's lap, his fingers curling around the young man's half-hard cock.

Will's penis immediately sprang to attention; he couldn't hold back a soft gasp, couldn't keep himself from arching his back into that touch. The movement made the plug shift, push deeper inside him; Will had to bite his tongue to keep from crying out.

"Don't make a sound, Will," Hannibal cautioned him, turning his head to look at the young man. "If you do, then it's going to be much easier for people to guess what we're doing .And that wouldn't make me happy. I believe that it would embarrass you, as well."

Will could do nothing but nod helplessly; Hannibal definitely had that right. He already felt that everyone could see what was going on; he didn't want that feeling to come true.

He would just have to try to deal with this, as difficult as it might be.

One thing was for sure, he told himself as he stared straight ahead at the stage, watching the curtains go up as the lights went down. The next time Hannibal wanted him to accompany him on another cultural escapade, he would politely decline.

Even if that annoyed Hannibal, dealing with his lover's displeasure would be a lot better than having to endure another evening like this one.

Will kept his eyes fixed on the stage as the opera began, counting the seconds. He had no idea how long the first act would last, but he hoped that it wouldn't go on for too long. He could only hope that the second act wouldn't bring even more surprises.


	5. Owned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will struggles not to embarrass himself in front of the entire opera house.

Will squirmed in his seat, wishing that Hannibal would stop touching him. That wasn't something he usually wanted, but this was an odd situation. He had never expected to be sitting in a box at the opera house naked from the waist down.

He was just glad that no one could see into the box -- and that Hannibal had made it very obvious that he'd locked the door behind them. They wouldn't be disturbed; he had no doubt of that. But people were watching them as closely as they were watching the opera.

He kept his eyes trained on the stage, trying to pretend that everything was normal, but he couldn't stop the telltale blush that crept into his cheeks.

Will felt as though his face was burning, as though his expression shouted out loud and clear to everyone that Hannibal's hand was on his cock, slowly stroking him. Hannibal was also looking at the stage, but his hand was busy in Will's lap.

He was going to come if this kept up, and embarrass himself horribly.

If he did, would he be able to hold back a moan, or even a cry? It probably wouldn't be all that audible, but he didn't doubt that _someone_ would hear it. And he didn't want anyone to have any confirmation that there was indeed something untoward happening here.

Most people were watching the action on the stage and listening to the music, but there were still some people who had their opera glasses trained on Hannibal's box. Will didn't know if they had some idea of what was happening, but he fervently hoped they were clueless.

What if the expression on his face told them that there was something happening that was hidden from view? The thought only made his blush deepen.

He couldn't let himself squirm; if he did, then it would be a dead giveaway. People might now _know_ what Hannibal was doing to him, but they might start to get an idea of it, and he didn't want that. He wanted them to look calm and innocuous.

Fat chance of that, not with what Hannibal was doing.

His hand was moving up and down the shaft of Will's erect cock, stroking him slowly; whenever Will was sure that he couldn't stand it any longer, that he would come, Hannibal had a little trick that stopped his body from finding relief.

His hand would slide down to the base of Will's cock, grasping hm firmly, and squeeze gently. The gentle pressure kept building up until the urge to come lessened; after a few minutes, Hannibal would resume his stroking, not taking his eyes from the stage.

Will bit his lip as those fingers tightened around the base of his cock again; he wondered if he would be walking out his theater with his balls a lovely shade of blue.

Oh, he knew that Hannibal would give him the relief he needed when they were behind the closed doors of his house; that wasn't in doubt for a second. He knew that Hannibal's desire for him had to be raging by now, but he held it back well.

Hannibal knew how to stay calm and cool, to never let his feelings show.

Will wasn't so accomplished at hiding what he felt -- especially not when it was so close to the surface. He wished for what seemed like the thousandth time tonight that he had Hannibal's cool demeanor, that he could take things like this in stride without blinking an eye.

That was more easily said than done when _he_ was the one who had to endure this stimulation and not let his outward expression show what his body was going through. If Hannibal had been in this position, would he still be so calm and collected?

Will seriously doubted it. Even Hannibal had his limits, and what he was dong to Will now would stretch anyone to the end of theirs.

He wanted to raise his hips, to find some relief from the constant stimulation, but he knew that if he did, he risked being seen by the people who were looking at the box rather than at the opera. So he had to stay still, and be sure to keep the lower part of his body out of sight.

He bit back another moan as Hannibal's thumb stroked over the tender tip of his cock.

Will could feel his balls tightening with each brush of Hannibal's thumb on every upward stroke; he was going to come in a very short time if this kept up, unless Hannibal stopped him. At this point, he didn't _want_ it to stop.

No, he wanted, _needed_ the release of an orgasm, even if it might make him inadvertently moan or cry out. He didn't know how he could explain that to anyone -- if people heard, and asked, then he would simply leave it to Hannibal to come up with an explanation.

That was Hannibal's job, anyway -- he was the one who had put Will in this situation, so he was the one who should have to explain away any questions.

His breath caught in his throat; his body was tightening, spiraling upwards. Will knew that he was close to the point of no return; this time, Hannibal was doing nothing to stop the orgasm that was rushing headlong towards him, threatening to take over his body.

One more stroke of those fingers, and he would be undone.

When it came, Will had to clench his teeth to hold back a cry of pleasure; his hands tightened on the arms of his chair until his knuckles were white. His entire body trembled, his hips jerked spasmodically; he was surprised that every head didn't swivel in their direction.

Of course, that might be because the first act was coming to an end; people were clapping, cheering, standing up. But of course, he couldn't do that -- not unless he wanted to expose himself to an entire opera house full of people.

Hannibal stood, clapping politely, a wide smile on his face. Will almost wanted to say something, but he didn't dare. He had no idea what Hannibal planned next, and he wasn't sure that he wanted to find out. He would just have to be patient, wait and see.

To his relief, Hannibal moved forward to pull the curtains closed; now he would be able to get the plug out, put his pants back on, and feel like a normal person again.

"Put your pants on, Will. I intend to show you off tonight."

"B-but aren't you going to ...." Will's voice trailed off as he realized exactly what Hannibal intended. Of course he wasn't going to remove the plug. He wanted Will to walk around during the intermission with the knowledge of it inside him, knowing that Hannibal _owned_ him.

In a way, it was exciting -- but it was also humiliating, even though no one else knew the plug was there. _He_ knew, and it would make him vastly uncomfortable. But that was what Hannibal wanted -- and what his lover wanted, he invariably got.

This was going to be a harrowing evening, Will thought to himself as he got to his feet and reached for his pants. And it wasn't even halfway over yet.

There was still the intermission to get through, and he knew that would last for a while. Then there was the second act, and the post-opera socializing. He was bad at being social at the best of time, and Hannibal knew that. It was one of the reasons they were here.

Yes, Hannibal wanted to show him off. That was part of it.

But his lover also wanted to make him uncomfortable -- and he couldn't have chosen a more perfect way to do so. This was going to be torture. Well, torture for him, anyway, Will thought wryly. Hannibal would more than likely enjoy every second of it.

He reached for the handkerchief that Hannibal was holding out to him, silently telling him to clean himself off before he got dressed again. He did so, trying to take his time, wanting the moments they spent out there in the crowd to be put off for as long as possible.

But he couldn't put them off forever. Slowly, he reached for his pants, pulling them on, then running a hand through his hair, hoping that he didn't look too disheveled.

"You look lovely, Will," Hannibal said softly, reaching for his hand. "I'm proud to take you out and show you off to the people here. I don't believe that anyone else here has a more beautiful date for the evening. You make me feel privileged to be with such a gorgeous man."

Will could feel the blush stealing into his cheeks again.

So Hannibal still thought he was beautiful, in spite of the humiliation he was making him endure tonight. It was enough to keep him going through the intermission, no matter what he had to deal with. Just knowing that Hannibal was proud of him brought a little glow to his heart.

If that was the case, then he would do Hannibal proud by holding his head high and proving himself worthy of the man who was his lover. Squaring his shoulders, Will followed Hannibal to the back of the box and out into the corridor beyond, masking his trepidation behind a smile.


	6. No Shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will comes to few conclusions about his relationship with Hannibal as they mingle with the crowd during the intermission.

He hated this. He really, really hated this.

Will had to force himself to smile and nod at people, all the while wishing that he was anywhere but walking around the opera house. He held a glass of brandy in his hand; he wished that he could simply toss it back and get another.

But that wouldn't do, not here. He couldn't appear to be eager to get drunk. He had to keep up appearances, or Hannibal would be displeased. And he didn't want to deal with his lover's displeasure; Hannibal already had enough surprises in store for him.

He had no idea what would happen when intermission was over and they went back to the box, but he could imagine. He didn't want to think about it.

He was already uncomfortable enough; there was no telling what else Hannibal had planned for the evening. Will just hoped that he wasn't instructed to close the curtains again; he was sure that he knew what would happen if he did.

Hannibal would take the plug out and then fuck him, and it would probably be more than obvious to every person in the opera house just what was going on behind those closed curtains. He was sure that everyone thought they had already done the deed.

Well, they'd come close, that was for sure.

Will had no doubt that they _would_ have sex before the night was over -- and before they went back to Hannibal's house. That was more than likely what Hannibal had brought him here for; he didn't think it had been merely so Hannibal could show him off.

Though his lover seemed to enjoy doing just that at the moment. Hannibal looked proud of him, and Will couldn't help but respond to that.

Hannibal seemed to take pride in introducing Will to people he knew; Will had somehow expected him to not want those introductions to be made, as though he was trying to tell people that Will was merely his possession, not someone he had a personal relationship with.

Yet Hannibal's hand was on his lower back, occasionally stayed down to his ass, pushing slightly against the plug, pushing it deeper inside him. Will couldn't help squirming slightly, more than a little uncomfortable when it prodded against his prostate.

"I wish you wouldn't do that," he whispered when he and Hannibal found themselves alone in a corner of the room. "I don't think you want any .... errr, accidents."

"Of course not," Hannibal said smoothly, nodding at an acquaintance. "But that won't happen."

"How can you be so sure?" Will said, hoping that he didn't sound as desperate as he felt. "If you keep that up, I'm not going to have a lot of self-control. I know this is just meant to show me off as your possession, but you can't expect me to --"

"What?" Hannibal turned to him with an expression of surprise. "Will, I brought you here because I wanted to show everyone how beautiful you are. Not as my possession, but as my lover. No one here doubts that we are involved -- and they all envy me."

Will couldn't keep back a blush at those words; he liked hearing Hannibal say things like that. "I figured you just brought me here to show people your newest plaything."

Hannibal shook his head, sighing softly. "That's not why I brought you here at all, Will." His tone was quiet, even and steady. "I brought you here because I'm proud of being with you. Because I want to show to the world what a beautiful man I am with."

WIll swallowed hard, his throat tightening. He had completely misjudged Hannibal; he was ashamed of the thoughts he'd had, of what he had accused his lover of doing. "I'm sorry," he said, keeping his voice soft. "I didn't think you were ... proud of me."

Hannibal's dark eyes searched his face, the older man's expression grave.

"Of course I'm proud of you, Will." His voice was still quiet, but the words were strong and firm. "If I was not, then you wouldn't be here with me. I would hide you away, and not let anyone know that we are involved. I wanted to show you because I take pride in the man I care for."

Was that affection he heard in Hannibal's voice? He really hadn't expected _that_ \-- nor had he dared to think he would ever hear the words that Hannibal was speaking now. He had never dared to hope that this man would say he _cared_ for him.

It wasn't the same as Hannibal saying that he _loved_ him, but caring was a prelude to love. It was _part_ of love. It would do, for now. And it was a huge concession on Hannibal's part to admit to even having those tender feelings.

He had to blink back tears at the realization. Hannibal might be trying to make him feel uncomfortable at the moment, but maybe he had his reasons.

Or maybe he just enjoyed seeing Will squirm, knowing that he had power over his lover. If that was the case, then Will would let him have that power, that control. He would make his lover happy. After all, it wasn't as though he had any choice in the matter.

In a way, a part of him was even _enjoying_ this.

Not the humiliation, of course -- though he had to ask himself just _why_ he felt embarrassed. No one knew what was really going on; they'd kept that well-hidden. They might guess, they might conjecture, but there was no proof. They had been fairly circumspect.

But it probably hadn't been hard for people to surmise that they were doing something behind those closed curtains. Hence the smirks and stares.

Will cleared his throat, holding his head high. Hannibal was proud of him; Hannibal wanted him to be here, to show off their relationship to people who knew him. He had nothing to be ashamed of; he was proud fo be with this man, proud to be his lover.

Yes, he was a little uncomfortable with the games that Hannibal played, but if he didn't play those games, then he wouldn't be Hannibal. Those games were a part of him; they were what made him the person he was. Will had to accept that fact.

He wasn't going to act embarrassed, when he didn't need to be. He was going to circulate amongst these people, as though he was one of them, with no shame.

After all, that was what Hannibal wanted of him.

"I don't care what all these people think of me," he said softy, his words meant only for Hannibal's ears. "Or what they think of us being a couple. The only person whose opinion matters to me is you. As long as you care about me and want to be with me, then nothing else matters."

He was sure that he could see a gleam of appreciation in Hannibal's eyes, a warmth that had never been there before. Or maybe it had been there all along, and he just hadn't seen it.

"In that case," Hannibal told him, a smile on his lips, "we should go back to our box and settle in for the second act. I was going to suggest that we do just that; I do happen to have a few more plans that I'd like to take place before the act starts."

Will could feel his breath catch in his throat; he was fairly certain he knew what those plans were, and even though he was a little hesitant to see them carried out, a part of him was eager to see what they would be, and how the plan would be executed.

This was turning out to be a much more interesting night than he'd anticipated.

Hannibal placed a hand on Will's lower back as they moved back towards the steps that led to the entrance of the box; he could feel Hannibal's hand move down to rest on the curve of his ass, surreptitiously pushing the plug more deeply into him. He had to bite back a soft moan.

The two of them made their way up the stairs silently, then down the deserted corridor. Will was breathing heavily, his heart thumping in his chest. When the door to the box was locked and the curtains were closed, anything could happen. Anything at all.


	7. Satisfying Intermission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The opera's intermission is proving to be much more interesting for Will than the performance itself.

"Remove your trousers, Will," Hannibal said, turning to face his young lover in the dimness of the box. He moved to the front, pulling the curtains again and making sure that they were closed well so that no one could see into the confines of their hideaway.

Will did as he was told, silently removing his pants and folding them carefully. He laid them on a chair, then moved towards the front of the box, assuming that Hannibal wanted him to bend over and rest his elbows on the ledge again.

"No, not there," Hannibal told him. "Wait just a moment, Will. I need to remove some of my clothing, as well. Please be patient."

Will raised an eyebrow, but complied, watching Hannibal.

It only took the older man a few moments to remove his own pants; he folded them neatly, laying them next to Will's discarded clothing, then reached into his pocket to bring out a small bottle of lubricant. "Now you may face the stage, Will." His voice was quiet, yet commanding.

There was no way for Will to argue with the tone of Hannibal's voice. He turned around, facing the closed curtains, swallowing hard.

He knew what was going to happen; he knew that Hannibal was going to fuck him. There was no doubt about that, given the fact that his lover was half-naked. He had no problem with that, as long as no one could see what was going on in here.

But they would guess, wouldn't they? He'd already spent the intermission ignoring the smirks and knowing glances that had come their way; he hadn't been able to hide the fact that he was aroused, and he knew that people had noticed it.

They'd know that he had been fucked, too. It would be obvious.

He wasn't embarrassed that Hannibal was his lover, not in the slightest. In fact, he was _proud_ of that fact. But he didn't want to be seen as nothing more than Hannibal's boy toy, his plaything. And he was sure that was how the people here tonight would view him.

But did that really matter? he asked himself. Yes, he might see these people again, but he didn't have to deal with them on a everyday basis.And _he_ was the one who was involved with Hannibal, while they only wished that they could be.

He was the one Hannibal wanted. Nothing would change that. And even if what was happening now was more than a little unorthodox, he should be proud that he was the person who Hannibal had chosen to take part in this bit of naughtiness.

Will turned towards the closed curtains, leaning forward and placing his hands on the ledge. If Hannibal wanted him in another position, then he would be instructed to move.

He was already trembling with anticipation -- and desire.

As forbidden as this was, it was the most exciting thing he had ever done. It didn't really matter whether or not anyone knew what was happening here; he didn't care. Hannibal was going to have him, here in a public place, and he couldn't wait to be taken.

Hannibal had to know that he was on the edge; Will was sure that his desire was practically rolling off him in waves. If Hannibal couldn't feel it, then he would have to be much less perceptive than he was -- and he had never known Hannibal not to notice everything around him.

He couldn't help gasping when he felt Hannibal's hands on his bottom; he arched his back slightly ss the plug as pulled out of him, sighing with relief.

The sigh turned into another gasp when he felt Hannibal's cock pressing at his entrance. His eyes widened; he gripped the ledge so hard his knuckles whitened, waiting for the inevitable thrust that would fill him and send his senses soaring to the heavens.

He didn't have long to wait.

Hannibal's arms slid around his waist at the same time that he slid inside Will; he could feel his lover's breath warm against the back of his neck, feel Hannibal's lips on his throat a moment later. He pushed back into the thrust, mewling softly, all sense of propriety gone.

He didn't care who might see or hear. He was too far gone to give a damn where they were; he could only focus on the pleasure he was feeling.

That pleasure coursed through his veins, building quickly; within seconds, Hannibal was thrusting into him steadily, and his own body was rocking back to meet those thrusts. Will wanted this to go on forever, wanted the pleasure to keep escalating.

That couldn't happen, of course; sooner or later, this had to stop, and he had to leave the clouds that he was floating amongst and come back down to earth. But for now, he could stay here, let the pleasure flow over him, taking him towards the stars.

Nothing mattered but this. The rest of the world had no meaning.

Everything else around him seemed very far away and inconsequential; the only thing that felt _real_ was the steady thrusting, the feel of Hannibal inside him, those arms around him, those lips on his skin. Nothing else registered, only sensation.

The pleasure was uncoiling inside him, unfolding like a flower opening its petals to the first rays of the sun. Only a few more moments, and it would burst into bloom.

One more thrust, then another -- and then he was flying through the stars, colors bursting all around him. Hannibal's hand was over his mouth to keep him from crying out; he could dimly hear the other man's soft exhalation of breath as Hannibal released inside him.

Will went limp in his lover's arms; he leaned back against Hannibal, breathing hard, closing his eyes and trying to regain his equilibrium. Of all the times they had made love, somehow this one seemed to be the most intense.

Possibly because there had been so much risk.

What would have happened if they'd been caught? Obviously, they would have been asked to leave -- but Will didn't think they would have been banned from the opera house. Not with the kind of clout Hannibal had in certain societal circles.

No, Hannibal wouldn't be kicked out of here for good. He might be cautioned, even warned that a second offense _would_ result in him not being allowed inside the door again. But he would still be respected. Will didn't doubt that for a moment.

Hannibal's lips were on his throat again, moving up, sharp teeth nibbling at his earlobe. "I would say that was a quite satisfying intermission, wouldn't you, my sweet?"

Will couldn't help but laugh at those words, so softly spoken, so innocuous. Hannibal might have been talking about a glass of wine, or a stimulating conversation with someone of his acquaintance, not about furtive sex in a curtained opera box.

It had been one of the most exciting things Will had ever done.

"It was satisfying, all right," he murmured, feeling a little bereft when Hannibal slid out of him and moved away. He didn't turn around as his lover pulled on his pants, then handed Will his own. He carefully pulled them up and zipped them, feeling a little disconcerted.

This had been so easy for Hannibal. It was as though he'd done it before, and Will couldn't help wondering if that was so. He wanted to ask his lover if this was the first time he'd thought of something like this, but the words stuck in his throat.

He couldn't be _jealous_ , could he? After all, if Hannibal had done this with someone else, then that must have happened long ago. It didn't affect them.

But somehow, it did. He hated to think of Hannibal sharing something like this with anyone else. He didn't want to think that his lover had done this at another time, with someone else he'd trusted enough to follow his lead and engage in the forbidden along with him.

They'd have a talk about this later, when they got home.

Will sighed softly as he sat back down and watched Hannibal open the curtains of the box; they were just in time for the second act. Hannibal sat back down next to him, taking Will's hand and raising it to his lips -- making sure that everyone could see the courtly gesture.

With that one movement, Hannibal had shown what esteem he held Will in -- and shown it to the world. He couldn't have any doubts about his lover, not after that.

Hannibal kept Will's hand in his, and Will couldn't help but smile as he saw heads turn towards them. He settled back into his seat, keeping his eyes on the stage, pretending to watch the opera. Yes, they would talk later. But for now, he intended to enjoy the rest of the evening.


	8. In the Highest Regard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal leaves Will in no doubt as to his feelings about their relationship.

When the last curtain call was done and the clapping had ceased, Will looked over at Hannibal with a sigh. "I guess it's time we went home," he said softly, knowing what was going to happen when they got there. He had no doubt they would be busy.

He wanted Hannibal to take him as soon as they were in the door. He didn't care if it was on the floor, against the wall, or even on the steps.

He didn't want to wait until they walked up the stairs to the bedroom; hell, he didn't even want to wait until they made it all the way to the house. He would let Hannibal take him in the back seat of the car, or even in a broom closet here at the opera house.

He'd never felt this desperate, this needy.

Could Hannibal feel that need in him? Will glanced over at his lover as Hannibal got this feet and reached for his coat. He was sure that the other man knew exactly how he felt. He could tell from that little smile that hovered around the corners of Hannibal's lips.

That was one reason that Hannibal had done the things he did tonight; he had wanted to show Will just how much he was under his control. Will really didn't mind that; he liked being able to relinquish his tightly held control to Hannibal when they were together.

He had to keep himself under that tight rein all the time when he was at work; it was good to be able to let himself go, to be who he really was. He'd never been able to do that before he'd been with this man, and it was a relief to finally feel that he could let his guard down.

He couldn't do that with anyone else.

"Well, Will, have you enjoyed your first trip to the opera?" Hannibal asked as the two of them shrugged into their coats. "I thought it was quite .... instructive."

Will nodded, unable to keep a small smile from playing around his own lips. "Yeah, I can agree to that," he said, his voice very soft. "And I've got the feeling that my .... instruction isn't going to end there." He left the thought hanging, waiting for Hannibal to agree.

"I've no doubt that it will continue," his lover told him, opening the door at the back of the box. "But we still have to navigate the crowds before we can go home."

WIll nodded, sighing softly. He wasn't looking forward to that.

Hannibal was watching him, a small frown creasing his brow. "What's wrong, Will?" he asked, his voice soft. "Are you embarrassed to go out there before all of those people after what we've done, knowing that none of them are anywhere near your level? Don't be."

Will sighed, shrugging, wishing that he could let other people's opinions slide away like water off a duck's back. But he couldn't. He _cared_ what people thought of him.

Perhaps too much. But he couldn't change how he felt. "I just don't .... want people to think badly of me. To get the wrong impression of who I am."

Hannibal shook his head with a soft sigh. "Will, what other people might happen to think of you doesn't matter. What's important i what you think of yourself. Whether they love or hate you is not relevant. They are nothing to us, nothing in our lives."

Will wasn't so sure that was true, but he didn't say so.

When he didn't speak, Hannibal regarded him silently, their gazes finally meeting. "Will, there are many people who dislike me, for the wrong reasons."

Hannibal took a deep breath before continuing. "I do not let what they think matter to me. I would rather be hated for who I am, than loved for who I am not. These people who dislike me don't know who I am. So their opinion carries no weight for me."

Will nodded, sighing again. "I know I shouldn't care what anybody else thinks. But it's hard not to. And it's hard not to want to hide from them."

This time, it was Hannibal's turn to nod and sigh.

"You have nothing to hide, Will," he said, still speaking very softly. "You are a beautiful man, and I'm very proud to be the person who is with you. If anyone else doesn't see that, then it's their loss. They are foolish as well as blind."

"I don't know about that," Will said with a laugh. "You see something in me that I don't see, Hannibal. I've tried, but I just can't see myself as being all that attractive." He lowered his voice before speaking again, a blush coloring his cheeks. "I'm glad you do, though."

"And I always will," Hannibal told him, smiling and reaching for Will's hand. "I will always be here for you, Will. Never doubt that I will always hold you in the highest regard, and that you will always own my heart." He gave Will's hand a gentle squeeze to accompany the words.

Will could almost feel his heart overflow.

Hannibal was right. No one's opinion mattered but his own, and that of the man he loved. Anyone else was insignificant; what they thought had no bearing on the relationship he and Hannibal shared. Nothing was really important in their relationship but the two of them.

"Come, Will," Hannibal told him, not letting go of his hand as he gestured towards the door with his free hand. "It's time to brave the masses before we go home."

Will sighed, knowing that Hannibal was right. There was one more thing to get through tonight, and then he would get what he wanted when they got back to Hannibal's house. He only hoped the time would go by quickly, and that his fulfillment wouldn't be put off for too long.


	9. Fires of Passion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will can't wait to get back to Hannibal's house to continue their evening behind closed doors.

Will could feel his body tingling all over as he and Hannibal walked down the front steps of the opera house. Soon, they would be back at Hannibal's home -- and they would make love. Only this time, it wouldn't just be love; it would be frenzied, filled with _need_.

He didn't doubt that Hannibal felt the same desire he did; the two of them were both tightly wound, both more than ready to go home and be alone.

Will didn't care how Hannibal took him; he just wanted to be _taken_. All that had happened in the opera house had only served to bring his desire to a knife edge; it had only whetted his appetite, rather than quenching it.

He was positive that Hannibal felt just the same.

He _needed_ Hannibal; needed those cool hands on his body, needed to feel Hannibal's bare skin next to his own, needed to feel Hannibal inside him, thrusting into him, taking him, making Will his. He needed it like he needed oxygen to breathe.

Will would have been happy to pull into a side road, park the car somewhere, and give himself to Hannibal in the back seat. It seemed far too long a trip back to the house.

But he would have to wait, and he knew it. Maybe the waiting wuold only heighten this desire, make it that much more intense.

By the time they got into the house, he knew that he would be begging for Hannibal to take him. He didn't care if the tuxedo he wore was ripped to shreds; it felt too tight, too enclosed. He wanted to be naked under Hannibal, freeing his body and his soul.

He wanted to let the fires of passion rush over him.

He wanted to be consumed by that fire, seared from the inside out. He didn't care how hot those flames might burn; he was more than ready to cast himself into them, to let them burn him to a crisp. He needed that fire, that passion, needed to be scorched by them.

The fire was already spreading through his veins as the two of them got into the car; Will could feel tension tightening his body, making his breath come faster.

Not much longer now, and they would be back at Hannibal's house, behind locked doors, where they could do anything they wished to each other. He couldn't wait to get there; he was counting the seconds until they arrived and those fires of passion could overwhelm him.


	10. Come Here Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Only a few moments more, and the growing passion that Will has been feeling all night can consume him.

His body was on fire.

They hadn't even gotten out of the car yet, and Will already felt as though he was burning form the inside, being consumed by a flame that he knew would sear him to the bone once they were behind closed doors and it could be set free.

That flame was already licking at him, teasing him with its intensity. He knew that it would only become more hot, burning higher and higher until he was reduced to ashes.

He _wanted_ that searing flame, _needed_ it. He needed the fire of his passion for Hannibal, and his lover's reciprocation of that passion, to burn so high and hot that he was completely devoured by the heat, then rose from it like the proverbial phoenix.

He needed to be burned to a crisp, seared from the inside.

It would happen. He had no doubt of that. Hannibal would take his hand, lead him into the house, close the door -- and their passion would be unleashed.

Just the thought of that passion made him tremble, made him wish that the short walk from the parked car to the house was already over and he was naked under Hannibal, feeling those hands rush over his body and claim ownership of him.

Only Hannibal could touch him like that. Only Hannibal could throw him a look that told him to come here to his lover's side and expect to be obeyed. He was doing that now; the glance that was cast Will's way was an unmistakable command.

He listened to that command, and obeyed. Hannibal didn't have to tell him to come to him. Will could hear those words clearly enough in his mind.

The fire was already cascading over him.

He wasn't a dog. Hannibal wouldn't treat him like one. But all his lover had to do was indicate that he wanted Will at his side, and Will would be there. He might not be able to call to Hannibal in the same way, but he knew that his lover would be there for him if he was needed.

He was needed now. Will needed his touch, his kiss, his hands, his body. Will needed to be taken, to be consumed by those flames of passion that were rising ever higher.

Soon enough -- within a matter of seconds, actually -- he would be on the floor, or against the wall, or on the steps, his body in Hannibal's hands. His lover would be touching him, possibly even already inside him. And the flames would engulf them both.

Hannibal's hand was on the doorknob. Only a few moments now.


	11. To the Heavens and Beyond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will wants to scream out his pleasure for the world to hear. Hannibal doesn't seem to mind that at all.

Will felt his muscles tense when the door closed behind Hannibal; he had walked in first, as his lover had indicated he should do, anticipation flaring within him.

When he turned around, he found himself pulled into Hannibal's arms, in a passionate embrace that made his knees go weak. This was it, then; this was what they had been leading up to all night. Hannibal was going to take him, have his way with him.

It was what he'd been craving ever since they'd left the house.

Their interludes at the opera house, even the unexpected sex, hadn't been enough. He wanted more; he wanted to let himself go, to not have to be quiet, to scream out Hannibal's name and his own pleasure. He wanted to let his inhibitions out.

And he would be able to do that, he knew. Hannibal would give him that chance; no, Hannibal would _demand_ it of him. Starting now.

Hannibal's mouth was on his in a fierce kiss that took his breath away; those hands were already roaming over his body, loosening his tie, pulling at his jacket. His own hands were doing the same with Hannibal, eager to have the barriers of fabric gone.

It only took a few moments for Hannibal to have Will's jacket, shirt and tie off; then his fingers moved to the fastening on his trousers, almost ripping the zipper in his haste to have his young lover undressed. But it was accomplished more quickly than Will had thought it would be.

Hannibal stripped off his own clothes much more quickly, then reached for Will, pressing their bodies against each other in a frenzied embrace.

This was passion. This was what he had wanted and needed.

Will wrapped his arms around Hannibal's neck, returning the ardent kisses his lover pressed on his mouth with a mounting fervor of his own. He didn't care if they didn't make it to the bedroom, if Hannibal took him right here on the polished wooden floor of the foyer.

Or against the wall, or in the living room .... he didn't care where they made love, as long as Hannibal was inside him, filling him, taking him.

That was all he wanted, all he needed. To feel his lover inside him, to know that Hannibal was one with him. He'd had a taste of that earlier, but it had been quiet and furtive. Now, here in the privacy of their home, he could scream his pleasure to the heavens.

He expected Hannibal to either pull him to the floor, or into the living room to press him down on the couch. To his surprise, his lover did neither of those things. Hannibal grasped his hand and led him towards the stairs, obviously intending to head for the bedroom.

Will followed, more than eager to get to where they were going. He couldn't wait to be pressed down on the bed, to be entered, to be taken.

Hannibal pushed Will ahead of him on the steps, urging him upwards.

Halfway up the stairs, Will stumbled in his haste, nearly falling to his knees. When he would have gotten up, he felt a hand on the back of his neck, stilling him. The breath seemed to be sucked from his lungs; he knew what Hannibal was going to do.

He was on his knees, and Hannibal was behind him. Really, there was only thing his lover _could_ do, and Will knew that he would welcome it.

He arched his back, closing his eyes, almost holding his breath. He wanted this, wanted it so badly that he could almost taste it. He wanted Hannibal inside him, filling him, fucking him, taking him from behind, right here on the steps. He couldn't wait for them to make it to the bedroom.

He felt Hannibal's lubed fingers sliding inside him, two of them at once. His lover must have grabbed the tube of lubricant from his jacket pocket, in spite of his rush.

Will was glad that he had; it would be somewhat painful to be taken with no lube, even as ready as he was. Even when he was in a hurry, and thinking more of fulfillment than of preparation, Hannibal still thought of him and didn't want him to be uncomfortable.

He needed no more proof that he was loved and cherished.

It only took Hannibal a few moments to prepare him; Will arched back into that touch, pushing his hips back, silently asking for more. 

And Hannibal gave him exactly what he wanted. When his lover slid inside him, filling him, Will finally _did_ scream, a long, keening sound that seemed to echo in the stairwell and the foyer all around them. He wondered if the neighbors could hear, as well.

If they could, he didn't give a damn. He couldn't hold back the sounds of his pleasure; he wouldn't. They had been struggling to get out all night, ever since that first interlude at the opera house, and now was his chance to let them be heard.

Nothing had ever felt so good as Hannibal thrusting in and out of him, one arm around his waist, the other threaded through his hair, pulling his head back.

Hannibal's mouth was on his neck, leaving love bites, sucking at the tender flesh, marking Will as his own. Will didn't care what marks might be visible in the light of day; he would hide them somehow. Or maybe he would simply let them show.

He would let everyone see them, let the world know who he belonged to.

Yes, he belonged to this man. He was Hannibal's, in every way; mind, heart, body and soul. there wasn't any part of him that wasn't owned by Hannibal Lecter.

He was being pressed against the carpet-covered step in front of him, and while it wasn't exactly painful, it wasn't the most comfortable of positions, either. But he didn't want this to stop -- if they hesitated for even one moment, the magic would be gone.

And yes, it _was_ magic. It was spontaneous, combustible, a joining that was built out of their mutual need for each other in a way that their desires had never collided before. There had been such a buildup -- and now they were reaping the rewards of waiting.

Will had no doubt that Hannibal was just as aroused by this as he was, than Hannibal needed him just as much. He could feel it in the way that he was being taken.

Hannibal wanted and needed him, just as he wanted and needed Hannibal. Those mutual desires fed into each other in a circle that would never come to and end -- not unless they let it end. Will knew that he would never never want to. He would hold onto this until the world ended.

He wanted this for the rest of his life. For the rest of eternity.

Will could feel his orgasm uncoiling within him and rising to the surface; he was surprised that he'd held back this long. He had thought that he would come almost immediately, as soon as Hannibal was inside him. After all that waiting, he had been primed and ready.

But yet, he hadn't let himself go; he was proud of that. He was leaning control, just as Hannibal wanted him to. He was sure that his lover was also proud of him.

That control had been hard-won, but he couldn't hold onto it much longer. At the next thrust, he could feel that tiger inside him waiting to spring, rushing to the surface and shattering over his body in a burst of pleasure, one that would make him scream out Hannibal's name.

When his orgasm burst over him, that was just what he did -- screaming out his lover's name for the world to hear. Only seconds later, his cry was joined by a moan from Hannibal; Will could feel his lover's release inside him, marking him as Hannibal's own.

That was what he wanted. To be marked, to be owned, to be known as Hannibal's. He wasn't ashamed to belong to this man. No, he reveled in it.

And he would scream that from the rooftops, too.

He collapsed on the stairs as Hannibal carefully pulled out of him, knowing that he would need a moment before he could get to his feet. His knees were weak; he wondered if he'd be able to make it up the stairs and into the bedroom to fall onto the bed.

Behind him, he could feel Hannibal getting to his feet; a moment later, strong hands were on his body, steadying his wobbly legs, helping him to stand up.

Will didn't know what would come of the rest of the night, but he had the definite feeling that the two of them weren't done yet. There would be more screaming, he was sure of that. More screams of pleasure, shouting to the heavens and beyond, telling the world just how he felt.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Hannigram: 'Tie My Bow Tie?'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/901002) by [xEatxThexRudex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xEatxThexRudex/pseuds/xEatxThexRudex)




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